


Necessary as breathing

by JaqofSpades



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Shorts, VM post movie fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaqofSpades/pseuds/JaqofSpades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She was still Veronica Mars, and he was still Eli Navarro, and things were different now, but not different enough."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessary as breathing

She had been home four months when it caught up with him. Every day they had to share an office, every day they sat side by side on stakeout, every touch and laugh and whispered aside … he was wound so tight that letting off tension became as necessary as breathing.

More necessary, he found, because her nearness could still make him forget to breathe. A head tilt? Instantly hard, the sort of ungovernable ache he’d thought he’d left behind with furtive kisses in empty classrooms. He’s a different guy these days, married and a father and no longer hers to wind up, but the reality of it remained.

She was still Veronica Mars, and he was still Eli Navarro, and things were different now, but not different enough. Ten years on, and he was back to lurking in the bathroom with his hand on his junk and his head full of a tiny blonde girl.

But yesterday, the restroom on their floor had flooded, and they were still waiting on the plumber, so he headed down into the garage for his daily session. Keith was up in Fresno, and Veronica had only just started on a stack of reports that should have taken her all afternoon to read.

He'd holed up in his car, undone his pants, and tried not to think of her. 

Coffee, she’d spluttered, face aflame. She’d needed coffee, she’d mumbled, eyes drifting down. 

She’d thought … and he’ll never know what she’d thought, because her words were trapped in a gasp, and fuck, his hand was still moving, tugging, and she was watching him, breathing hard, drinking in his sin. He hated himself for needing that, wanted to regret it, but the delicious little gasp and the way her eyes had fixed on his cock … he’s pretty sure that’s what had brought him over, in the end.

Her eyes, on him. The way she’d tugged her lower lip between her teeth, and shifted from one leg to the other. The fact that he knows her, and what it means when those glacial eyes are suddenly a dark blue. The weight of her fascination had him pinned, like an insect under glass, and all he could do was come, and come, and come.

He watches the pulse beat in her throat, and his brain screams how bad this is. How wrong.

How good it felt.

How necessary.

(How much better it could be tomorrow.)


End file.
